Box of souls
by BluePanedGasMask
Summary: Grey knights. Incorruptible warriors who have never once faltered in their eternal duty. Theirs is a thankless and forsaken task, but they must bear it none the less. Justicar Hal is one such warrior, as stalwart as any of his brothers. But sometimes even Knights must be made to doubt.
1. Chapter 1

_**This is a old story which I wrote years ago. Just uploading it gradually to see if anyone enjoys it or has some criticism.**_

* * *

Box of Souls

Prologue

Council chamber

Bel-tan craft world

The human entered our home, our craftworld, alone, clad in shining silver ceramite, or tactical dreadnought armour, as the humans called it, its colour only blemished by the splatter of blood strewn across it. He had a shining halo of light playing around his head that marked him out as a psyker. We thought him bringing our deaths and, in a way we weren't wrong. Our guards were the first to fall. When surrounded, he was asked why he dared trespass. He said he came bearing gifts. Thinking themselves to be mocked by this primitive creature, the guards aimed to strike him down. Surprisingly the human showed mercy. No sooner had they started to strike, the human had them disarmed and unconscious. Even I could not foresee this. For warriors trained to the peek of their abilities to be beaten by a human! As proud as I am, I do not fail to admit this, as a Eldar Farseer of the Bei-tan craft world, I am trained to set aside such petty emotions.

As he stood in the ring of the howling banshees, the warriors of vengeance, that were forming around him, he spoke. I, myself was perched on a throne of star white wraithbone, surrounded by warriors of the seer council, waiting for the ever predictable human to proclaim his authority. To speak of his brilliance or to mock us on our failure as a race. We were, for once, wrong. He opened our deaths.

* * *

Background

Delta 4 is a death world, pure and simple. It is much larger than Terra and one planetary rotation would take the same amount of time as 4 rotations of Terra. The surface is a massed jungle with an oxygen level around 40 percent higher than Terra with some added cocktail of toxins making it deadly to most life forms without appropriate filters. A normal human would breath and live for fifteen minutes, after which they feel as though they need more and more intakes of oxygen until their lungs would swell, to such a point that their rib cage would crack open and vital organs would be smothered. This expansion would continue until either the victim's lungs give way or his chest would explode.

However this high oxygen level has allowed flora and fauna to flourish. Plants and animals, especially insects and arachnids, grow to enormous sizes. Unfortunately to prevent these massive animals from consuming them, each plant developed a defense system to protect itself. Almost all flora on Delta 4 could and would kill a human, and even eat one, in a multitude of ways. This also led to the creatures developing vicious methods to gain a foothold in the ever changing food-chain, and would only be too happy to turn on any other creature.

The only clearings are those of the surprisingly large planetary garrison of imperial guard and the spaceport. The planetary garrison consists of mostly light infantry and mechanized scout regiments, but also included some Leman Russ battle tanks. The guards stationed there always employ gas masks as standard, to combat the choking atmosphere. The regiments there are very gung-ho and trigger-happy. Sometimes boredom sets in and they are known to open fire on wildlife that 'got to close' or 'looked at me funny.' The only reason these outposts are kept operational is because of its proximity to a warp gate, from which chaos forces can spill. This gives Chaos war-bands a safe haven to launch raids and even invasions into imperial territory. Though seemingly a useless death world, Traitor forces have always stopped to rendezvous on or ,if occupied by imperial or xeno forces, lay siege to Delta 4. Nicknamed 'Little Terror' because of its two similarities to the 'Eye of terror.' On a star map it almost looks the same but much smaller. It also spits out the same 'Terrors' as the eye...

* * *

Command deck of the Grey knight battle barge 'Wings of Redemption'

Orbiting Planet Delta 4

'Status report!' yelled Hubris as the Wings of Redemption obliterated the Word Bearers strike cruiser with broadside after broadside, sending rent metal and dismembered heretics spinning away into the boundless expanse of space.

'Our hull integrity is holding. Void shields are at optimal levels.' replayed the chapter serf, a human assistant that fail to initiate as a space marine but lived to tell the tale. 'We have successfully neutralized the chaos threat.'

Hubris smiled. The Wings of Redemption was renowned within his chapter for its masterfully executed, point-blank broadsides, so this was no surprise. Although he wouldn't mind to have Tech-knight Altar's cold logic advising him at this time. Altar seemed to know exactly when a enemy would strike and predict his movements before he had even made them.

'I would give my nemesis blade to know how he does it' thought Hubris.

Unfortunately since his initiation into the ranks of the Tech-priests of Mars, the red planet, Altar had become silent and liked to keep himself to himself. He was usually found in Deimos, the steel forge, a planet of weapon factories, that orbited Titan, the Grey knights chapter planet, unless off-world on a assignment. As brother-captain of a star cruiser he didn't cross paths with him at the forge and they only met when the Wings of Redemption needed repairs at the Broadsword station, a gargantuan space station that also orbited Titan. Admittedly, this was a lot, because the psychic energy's that help speed the vessel wore on the ships engines and machine spirit. But he never got chance to have a conversation with him that did not involve the maintenance of his ship, usually about a torn hull interior or it's worn and battered machine spirit.

"Incoming! Brace!" shouted a crackling voice on the comms wired into his helmet. Seconds later the ship was wracked with shock waves and many serfs stumbled. "Second contact! Designation: unknown pattern battle barge. Boarding torpedoes launched to our stern! Deck 8."

"Nearest terminator squad to deck 8 report!" barked Hubris.

"Squad Achilles on its way to deck 8. Keep us posted brother." replayed the voice of Justicar Hal.

"May the Emperor guide your blades Grey knights."

* * *

Deck 8

"For the Emperor!"

Charging through the Word Bearers soldiers, Hal swung his daemon hammer in a diagonal ark. It smashed into the skull of a berserker, and continuing on its bloody path, marked by the lines of blood streaking from it, into the chest of the man next to him, the force of the blow sending him flying into another. Hal looked around for more foes to face. The chaos marines had used looted boarding torpedoes to penetrate the outer layer of the hull and deliver its payload. In this case, a dozen of Khorne's berserkers, worshipers of the blood god. They had just began to charge towards a weapon platform when squad Achilles had arrived at the scene. Hals armour was slick and droplets fell from every surface of his armour as though he had been caught in a rainstorm, but it was not mere rain but blood. A bellowing skull champion, leader of this boarding party, had thrown a experimental grenade at him. It contained not shrapnel or explosives of any kind, only the lifeblood of some unfortunate soul. It had exploded against his chest and covered him in the red matter. Obviously designed to scare a foe, such as a inferior xeno race or more likely mortals, human. But Hal was a spacemarine and the blood grenade only seemed to make Hal more menacing. He wore terminator armour, that rose his height to over 8 foot and he weighed even more in tons, although he did not show it, thanks to his own enhanced strength and the muscle fibers inside the suit that carried its own weight. His face was covered in a helmet that suited the armour he wore, coloured silver and now painted in blood. It hid the expression on his face, as well as any facial features. He bore the golden lettering of his chapter proudly, the shoulders, knees and chest of his silver ceramite, engraved with the words 'Titan' and 'Honour' as well as the red sword of the Justicars. Teacher, leader and commander of squad Achilles, a squad who's history could be traced to the very beginning of the Grey knight chapter, Hal had only led the squad for a few years, a trivial amount for a spacemarine. He had led the squad after the death of the squads previous Justicar, Haygar who had been killed in the defense of the hive world, Deria.

Like most space marine terminator squads, Hal's squad was composed of five men all fitted in tactical dreadnought armour, almost indestructible armour originally designed to withstand the strength of a plasma core generator. It was now used, like most technology in the 41st millennium, in war. It could withstand anything from anti-tank missiles to armour sundering power weapons. It could also, if completely sealed helmet and all, withstand the vacuum of space and allow the wearer to live almost indefinitely. Unlike most terminator squads, the squad members were equip with much deadlier weaponry. Being grey knights, they all used storm bolters, a double-barreled rifle set side by side, that fired small missiles, or 'bolts,' that on impact, dug into a target and then exploded inside them, causing an appealing and usually gruesome amount of damage. These were traditionally strapped to their left vambrace and was fired by fully clenching their gauntleted fists, so a battle-brother could have his hand free for a double handed grip on his weapon, or to do any other task the knight might need to achieve that required both hands but allowed him to be armed at the same time.

They were also issued a Nemesis force weapon. Each type of Nemesis weapon is chosen by each member to suit his preferences. Squad Achilles had a varied selection of weapons. Hal himself used a daemon hammer. Each hammer, when it impacted against a target, releases a burst of psychic energy that turned a opponents size against him. Slow, but it could make a hell of a mess against large targets like tanks or large creatures not to mention the more man-sized targets he now faced.

Brother Mantos, one of the newest recruits to squad Achilles, used a force sword. It was similar to just a primitive long sword except that the blade was light blue in colour. In reality, it was a marvel of technology. The blade is made of tempered iron, flecked with shards of silver and inset with ancient runes of daemon slaying. In contrast to the primitive materials, the haft and the hilt contained advanced power field generators. Once activated these acted in union with the generator inside tactical dreadnought armour to create a much more powerful energy shield around the bearer.

Brother Pelenas, a grim warrior who had been in squad Achilles longer than Hal, used a pair of falchions. They resemble a force sword in many ways, with a much-reduced hook-ended blade. If the generators inside the hilts are activated, Brother Pelenas can, and does, wield them at incredible speed, whirling around in a tornado of blue flashing blades.

The other two members of Squad Achilles, Brothers Jun, another new addition, and Soran, Hals most trusted companion and friend, who had been brought into the order at the same time as each other, were equip with force halberds. With the same blade similar to that of the force sword and falchions, except that it was set on a long adamantium haft, that gave Brothers Jun and Soran a longer reach. This was invaluable in landing a fatal blow before a enemy has got close enough to swing his weapon.

Brother Soran also used a heavy weapon, forfeiting his storm bolter for a psilencer. Psilencers resemble a three-barreled mini-gun but is twice as deadly, and a thousand times rarer. It fires nothing more than the psychic might of it's wielder, sending bolts of psychic force into a target, these bolt are particularly effective against beings of pure energy, daemons being the foremost of these creatures.

Spinning around on the spot and swinging his hammer, Hal smashed a berserker who was trying to run past him in the chest hitting so hard that he impaled the marine on his hammer. The defiled power armour around the point of impact caved in on itself and in turn making the flesh and bones beneath a bloody ruin as the hammer made a box shaped hole in the berserkers lower chest.

"Second and third breach! Deck 7 and 9." cracked another serf, Hal never remembered their names.

Hal looked at the still hammer-impaled marine who was trying very hard the decide whether to pull himself free or try and attack the knight. The chaos marine looked up at his impaler's visor, but saw no pity, only hatred and contempt burning inside. Hal ended the berserkers life of rage and bloodshed by pointing his storm bolter at the joint of his neck and clenching his fist, splattering yet more blood and gore across his ceramite armour. Pulling his hammer from the now decapitated marine, Hal began to issue orders.

"Pelenas, clean up here! Brother Mantos, Brother Jun, you have deck 7. Soran, deck 9 with me." The runes on the inside of his helmet all turned green in acknowledgement. No other words were needed.

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 _ **There you have it, hope you enjoyed, let me know if you want me to continue with this or my other story(s).**_


	2. Chapter 2

Deck 9

After hitting the release button to open the adamantium plated door to deck 9, Hal barged through, followed quickly by Soran. This boarding torpedo was carrying Possessed, marines that had been taken over by a daemon and warped into something much worse. This is why the grey knights had attacked in the first place. The Prognosticars, very specialized psykers, had detected a mass of psychic tremors, and predicted that there would be many daemonic summoning's to bind a daemon to a mortal form on Delta 4, a hive world of little value other than that of its population, that provided soldiers and workers to the surrounding worlds, and once they arrived they had found it under assault by a chaos warband under the Word Bearers Chaos Legion banner.

As the first possessed noticed them Hal raised his storm bolter, squeezed the trigger and let the bullets do the talking. With a roar, the weapon jerked to life, spitting bolts towards the marine that noticed them, blowing a hole in his misshapen head in a explosion of gore and bone. Now all the others had noticed. Led by a large chaos marine with spiked crab-like claws and a jaw in place of its chest, they began to shamble towards the two grey knights.

"Not looking good eh Hal?" chuckled Soran.

"We've faced worse." Hal spoke grimly.

"Would you like me to even the odds?" Not waiting for a answer Soran braced himself and psychically triggered the firing mechanism in his psilencer. As the barrels rotated, shining, azure bolts of psychic energy spewed out of the weapon, sealing the fate of half of the possessed marines. Unfortunately for the chaos marines, their body's were half daemonic, exactly what the psilencer was made to destroy. As the bolts tore into the daemonkin, the daemonic matter literally disintegrated leaving the victims of the psy-weapon without an arm or even a body. Heedless of the death of their comrades, the rest of the possessed, around a dozen of the mutants, charged forwards.

"Soran! Counter charge" ordered Hal, signalling in battle sign what to do.

Soran instantly moved towards the possessed and began keeping them at bay with his halberd, opening up with his psilencer in short bursts. While Hal flanked right and around harassing the marines into Soran's blade. Deflecting a swing from a marine with mace-like fists with his right shoulder plate, Hal punched him in the chest, triggered his storm bolter and tearing gory craters in his chest and shredded his internal organs, as the bolts detonated inside him. Letting him fall to the ground in a puddle of daemonic ichor, Hal span around anti-clockwise and sprayed yet more bolter rounds in a wide ark, empty bullet casings spilling onto the floor and pinging off the metal surface, until his storm bolter ran out of ammo and clicked. Bolts slamming into several possessed marines, injuring many. Hal then charged forward into the breach he had created, tackling into another mutated marine, one with a mutated spider for a face and tentacles for arms, using the momentum to knock the monster off his feet. Unfortunately as the mutant fell, his tentacles whipped out and wrapped around Hals armour and righted himself before he hit the floor. Tangled in coils of flesh, Hal struggled to break out, while the spider-faced mutant began to come closer, fanged-maw dribbling glowing, yellow mucus.

"Emperor grant me strength!" yelled Hal as he focused his psychic power into his already enhanced muscles. Grabbing a daemonic tentacle, Hal pulled with all his super-human might, aided also by his psychic ability, sending the possessed marine flying towards him. Swinging his daemon hammer upward, the spider-head collided with the business end of the nemesis weapon, pulping the things head and flipping his body backwards in the air with the force of the blow. Hal looked around and saw the room begin to slide.

"The tentacles must be draining my energy." Hal thought. He began to pour psychic power into his aegis, a psychic halo that protected him from unnatural and more importantly daemonic attacks. Soon the trickle of energy, became a flood and his aegis began to purge the draining effects from his body. But as he focused on his suit, the psychic residue from his recently used ability and the extra energy used to power his aegis raged out of control, and a dark, red light surrounded him.

Hal roared in pain as the red light grew and slowly began to envelope the room, the possessed marines caught in the ever growing light disintegrated, into a smoking pile of ash. The uncontrolled psychic energy, or 'perils of the warp' as most psykers called it, literally drained them of all their energy and when that ran out, their entire being was torn apart, in mere moments.

"Soran!" Hal screamed through gritted teeth, "leave now!"

"Why?" Soran replied as he ran a panicking marine through the stomach with his halberd. "What's Wro- Holy Terra!" Soran pulled his blade out of the dying creature and seeing no line of retreat, he focused on his own aegis. No other psyker could have hoped to hold back the perils of the warp, but Soran was a grey knight and all grey knights were trained to, if not avoid completely, suppress all warp energies. But even a grey knight cannot hold it back indefinitely and as the dark gore red light enveloped him, Soran began to shake and fell to one knee, and then the rims of Soran's shoulder plates started to glow white hot and melt. Slowly but surely, the warp, energies were draining him of his energy.

"No!" shouted Hal.

As he realized that he would be the death of his most experienced comrade and dearest friend if he did not do something. Roaring in defiance, Hal used the last of his power to make the ever growing light to implode into its point of origin. Hal himself. The wall of light shook and slowly- almost reluctantly- retreated from its prey, a now red hot and burning knight. As it's recession quickened, the seemingly solid wall started to break off in pieces and form tendrils that headed for Hal. The tendrils of red mist, began to filter into the cracks and crevices in Hals terminator armour. Hal screamed in pain as the tendrils probed his skin for a entry point. The tendrils burnt him on touch but left no mark on him, or at least not that he could tell. He screamed in unbearable pain but looking up he saw Soran clatter to the floor, steaming but otherwise alive, he smiled through the pain.

"At least there's that." Hal thought.

Suddenly, as the tendrils filled Hal's helmet and completely enveloped him, there was a flash of light and then blackness as Hal simply disappeared, leaving only piles of ashand a smoking, spherical hole in floor and ceiling of Deck 9.

* * *

Unknown location

Hal opened his eyes a crack, and then opened them completely, to see a sky of orange, like a sunset on Terra. His body ached with dull but constant pain. With a grunt, Hal picked himself up, which wasn't easy when your wearing several tons of plated ceramite. After planting his feet firmly on the ground, Hal checked himself for wounds, after finding none, he then checked his equipment. His storm bolter was empty, and he only had a box of bolter rounds left. His force hammer was smoking and Hal detected that the psychic energy inside it going haywire. Checking his combat belt, he found a frag grenade, a anti armour krak grenades and some enhanced combat stimulant-normal stimulant was used to dim pain, but the grey knights had unofficially modified it to speed the heart rate, increasing stamina, and strengthen muscles for a short period of time as well, a testimony to the requisitioning power of the inquisition. Reloading his storm bolter, Hal looked around. He was on a plain of barren red rock that seemed to stretch forever.

"What emperor forsaken place is this?" Hal thought to himself.

He turned around and saw a single black blip in the endless stretch of rock. Shouldering his still smoking hammer and readying his storm bolter, Hal set off towards the blip. All the while a presence watched and waited for an opportunity to establish itself in its new host.

When in plain sight, Hal could now tell that the black blip in the sea of red was actually a tower. In the shape of a hexagon, and made of what seemed to be rectangular blocks of rocks reinforced with slabs of plas-steel, it reminded Hal of a primitive world, he and squad Achillies had visited when tracking a daemon who had possessed a civilian and escaped a dying world. On this world, Triton, squad Achilles had encountered primitive humans who had no idea of technology and used iron and stone to make weapons and structures. The tower, however, stained black, was decorated with inscriptions that Hal could not understand. But looking at them didn't hurt his eyes so Hal knew that they were not of chaos origin. The tower only had one door that was covered in the same inscriptions except bigger and carved into the wood like runes. As Hal approached the door the runes on in the bark glowed dimly.

"Best use extreme caution from here onwards." thought Hal.

Pushing the gnarled oak door with his left hand Hal found it locked and, peering through the small gap in the side, barred.

"I'll knock... Hard."

Hal took a few steps back and raised his left vambrace, opening fire upon the door blowing a few holes in it and then Hal barged through, shattering the shell-ridden door, sending splinters across the large chamber he had entered and pinging off his armour. Holding his daemon hammer high in both hands, Hal braced his legs and scanned around the room for potential threats. The hexagon chamber was mostly empty other than a statue of silver to Hals right, which depicted a hero in tactical dreadnought armour, a stone chair and ceramite-plated table to his left, next to the door. It was what was on the table that interested Hal. Lying on the table was a nemesis blade.

The differences were that the sword was dark blue, almost black, and Hal could see with his psychic senses, purple lightning playing across the blade. The blade itself was set on a golden hilt with a adamantium haft and gold pommel. Hal could tell that the entire weapon was crafted with masterful skill, to a degree that Hal had never seen such a masterful creation, even to the standard of the master artificers that created the armour and weapons of the Grand Masters, the eight lords of the grey knights chapter. This realization triggered a memory in his mind. If this surpassed the weaponry of the Grand Masters then only one who surpassed them could have this weapon.

"Could it really be... Surely not? Is it truly the Titan blade?!" Hal thought in alarm. As he reached out his hand to examine it further, a voice spoke out from behind him in a stern and grim voice "I wouldn't touch that if I were you."

Hal twisted round, resting his hammer to his shoulder and pointing his storm bolter in the direction the voice had came from. The room was just as empty as it had been moments ago.

"Show yourself! Be you daemon or Xeno I will shoot you down!" shouted Hal, tracking his sights around the room from left to right when he noticed the silver statue again. It was in dusty terminator armour and it held a shield, with both hands placed on the top that had its point dug into the ground.

"If you insist." Came the voice again this time with a hint of reluctance but just as stern.

Suddenly the dust shifted and with a screech the statue stepped down from its pedestal.

* * *

The statue had been watching for a while now. He had locked his armour in the corner of the first room and had fallen into what normal humans would call sleep. After a long time, enough to collect a good amount of dust, he awoke when he felt a presence approach his home and acted accordingly. He had stayed in his corner as a statue, only realizing that his sword was upon the stone table, when the thing approaching his doorway triggered the runes that signaled that the being was daemonic. But the runes only shone dimly, which puzzled the statue.

Having found no way to open his enchanted and anti-daemon, rune inscribed door, the statue thought the daemon had given up. Until he heard the familiar sound of a storm bolter blasting away. Soon after a hulking figure came smashing through the already hole-riddled door, brandishing a smoking red hammer. The 'daemon' was actually a space marine. A grey knight terminator to be precise. This was even more surprising for the statue, who had expected a daemon to be banished by the runes he had placed on the door. The knight looked around and saw the sword. He was obviously surprised by it, and may have even realized what the swords name was and who wielded it. As he reached down to pick up the blade, the statue decided to reveal itself to this supposed intruder. After stepping down from his pedestal, the Knight stayed true to the instincts honed into each grey knight he had ever known.

"Good to know it hasn't changed." The statue thought. The knight fired his storm bolter at the statue, who deflected the bullets with his shield. The knight cursed, but before he could fire again, Supreme Grand Master Kaldor Draigo spoke.

"If that is how you treat your Supreme Grand Master, the grey knights have changed dramatically from when I last was in the mortal world."

Hal was shocked to the core. He lowered his weapon and went to one knee. Only now did he recognize the almost god-like figure of Kaldor Draigo. His lord carried his storm shield, a massive piece of ceramite metal with a power-field generator inside it, on his left hand. The shield had a steel sword circled by a scroll embedded on the front. Behind that the shield was divided into two diagonally, one with the ranks of each grey knight, from knight to grand master, engraved in gold and the other a plain silver plaque with skulls decorating the bottom. Kaldor's storm bolter was attached to his sword arm (the right vambrace), so not to clip his shield. He wore no helmet, and the back of his shaven head was a metal plate covered in psy-reactive wiring that connected his mind to the aegis in his suit. His face was like it was set in stone as his expression never changed. The very wrinkles on his face never moving. His personal banner that hung from the pole attached to his back, bore his name and above that a book with a nemesis blade as the spine and golden rays shining behind it, on a velvet red background. And perhaps the most ornate piece of all was the Titan sword, which had lifted from the table and flown into Draigo's hand. Made from the blackened axe of Khorne, the blood god's strongest greater daemon, the supreme grand master had smelted the daemons axe with sanctified flame, created by his own psychic might, and forged the Titan sword, which had tasted the blood of greater daemons and daemon princes of all the chaos gods.

"So my brother, how has the mortal world been fairing without me?" Kaldor Draigo asked sheathing the Titan sword and leaning his storm shield against the wall.

Hal stood and recounted his tale, while Draigo had listened intently not interrupting or even blinking as Hal talked. Once Hal had finished, he looked at Draigo.

"So there is my story. Now I ask, Supreme Grand Master, for you to tell me yours. I have heard and read only myths about you and know little facts other than that you were lost to the chapter." Hal admitted. "How have you come to linger in such a desolate place?"

Draigo sighed. "After I defeated M'kar the Reborn, a greater daemon who led a daemonic army against the world of Acralem, when I was just a knight, he cursed me. He held on to mortal life long enough to say that although victory was mine this day, next time I set foot on this world, I, and all who follow me, shall walk in damnation for ten millennia. Two hundred years later, after materializing again in mortal form, M'kar assaulted Acralem again. By then I was Supreme Grand Master and knowing he came to fulfill the curse, I forbid any Greyknight to follow me to Acralem."

"I must confess, and I beg you to forgive me." Hal interrupted; "but you were not the only Greyknight to set foot on Acralem."


	3. Chapter 3

_**To JustAnotherAnon: Thats a fair enough point. However we do not know who this Knight is or, more importantly what level of psyker he is.**_

* * *

"WHAT!" Draigo shouted. Hal looked at his Lord. Kaldor Draigo showed no sign of emotion in his face but Hal could see in his eyes a flash that could have been surprise, anger, fear or a bit of all of them.

"I am sorry to say that I and my squad defied your order."

Hal took a sudden interest in the curve of plated ceramite that was the tip of his boot.

"We were told by a inquisitor to secure a daemonic artifact that had been hidden in a underground research facility near the planets core." Draigo stared at him for a moment. Hal would have noticed the silence, but all he could feel were the two eyes of the Supreme Grand Master boring into him. If looks could kill- and with Draigo's psychic mind, they could- Hals armour would have folded in on itself. Suddenly Draigo sprang at Hal his fists raised. Hal braced himself and closed his eyes, but did not try to avoid the titanic blows that were streaking towards him. With a feral roar, Draigo smashed down, crushing ceramite and splintering stone. Hal opened his eyes. Draigo had not aimed for him. He had split the ceramite and stone table with one blow.

"My lord, I-" Hal started.

"No. I am the one who is sorry. The warp effects our emotions. It's made of the stuff." Draigo sighed and turned towards Hal. "I thought I could had control mine. Sadly I was mistaken."

"I don't understand lord."

"Do you know where you are!" Draigo snapped.

"No I thought this was-"

"After returning to Acralem I fought M'kar for the second time. I defeated him and cast him back into the warp, but he still had time to fulfill his curse. He caught me in his grasp and dragged me into the warp rift he had created. And so I came here. In a world of nothing and everything I created something." Draigo chuckled, a grating sound that was filled with malice. "My own plain, in the realm of chaos."

"But if... I thought..." Hal stuttered as realization set in. "I'm in the warp. Oh Terra..." This was any Astarte's worst nightmare. To be trapped in the very bane of their existence. Heroes turned to heretics. Psykers possessed by daemons. All because of the warp. Even for a grey knight this was hard to bear.

"Am I trapped forever in this hell?" Hal thought he already knew the answer and was ashamed to hear his own voice crack.

"No."

"No?"

"No." Draigo confirmed. "For some reason you connection to the warp is fading. But let me explain something to you. There will be consequences. Do not interrupt. Understand?"

"Understood lord." Hal replied shakily.

"First I will ask you this. Which inquisitor instructed you to collect this artifact? Secondly tell me who else went? What was the exact nature of the artifact? Everything."

"The order came from Inquisitor Valeria, Ordo Xenos..." Hal admitted. Valeria was renowned for collecting artifacts and technologies of all kinds. Human or Alien. Divine or Daemonic. She didn't care. She was also know to murder entire planet populations and then some, just because 'it slowed research.'

"How dare she! No Inquisitor can countermand me!" Draigo interrupted, outraged.

"... And she passed the order down from the Council." Hal finished.

The Council of Terra. The 12 most powerful and influential men (or women, not many knew) in the imperium. No organization from Planetary Defence Forces to the Grey Knights themselves could operate without their approval. Draigo's expression went blank, and then mumbled something about 'politics' and 'the universes downfall.'

"We teleported down into the Lab complex, but the teleporting mechanism built into the facility malfunctioned." Hal continued. "Our squad consisted of five knights; myself, and brothers Soran, Pelenas, Logan and Caldus. Squad Achilles landed in the southern most section of the facility. As soon as we started for the core, we met heavy resistance. We had to carve a path through daemons, lesser and greater, from everyone of the Emperor-forsaken chaos gods." Hal thought back and told Draigo about the slaughter to the center of the facility.

* * *

Acralem

Underground Research Facility

Name and Designation: Unknown

Several months later (estimated from warp interference)

They had hacked and slashed their way through daemons, fair and foul. In wide corridors, Squad Achilles formed a thin line, with Caldus hanging back finishing any fiend that got through the other knights or came up from behind. In thinner corridors either Hal or Logan cleared the way. They had got to the weapon testing section when it had all gone haywire. Pushed back by daemons of all the gods, Khorne bloodletters and Slannesh daemonettes pushed them back while horrors laid down suppressive fire, if daemonic flame could be used in that concept, and Nurgle plague bearers slipped through panels in the floor. Squad Achilles fell back into a armory filled with racks of hot-shot las guns and other experimental weaponry. Back to back, they fought, side by side in a brutal cycle of slaughter, each of them willing to give their life for the other. A bloodletter pouncing upon Pelenas only to be shot out of the air by Caldus who takes a blow to the shoulder for his troubles. A daemonette slips pass Logan, to try and land a blow on his back, is taken of its feet by a hammer blow that could have swept half a dozen others in front of Hal.

Suddenly there was a ear-splitting roar that could be felt inside Hals helmet despite the noise suppressors and filters, and after a moments silence most of daemons had began a reluctant retreat, the bloodletters just ran. A bloodthirster charged through the access door, long since torn asunder, and it had smashed Logan into the back of the wall. Terminator armour cracked and buckled as the unholy strength of the greater daemon put one hand over the knight and began to squeeze. They had reacted too slow to save him and the rest of the squad had fired into the monsters back shredding the black leather-like wings that sprouted from it. Seeming not to care, the bloodthirster shrugged of the pain and had continued to crush it's prey. Reaching over the monsters hand Logan grabbed at the two krak grenades at his belt. He had raised them up as blood began to pour from the cracks in his armour, and he had pulled the pins.

"For Titan and the Emperor!" Logan had screamed, defiant to his last breath, as the implosion took most of his upper body, the bloodthirsters hand and it's horned face. After the corpses had collapsed, Squad Achilles had moved on. It had only took around a few minutes for the swarm of daemons to return. Although the Khorne daemons only appeared after a good while after. And when they did Achilles attacked with renewed vigor.

They had continued their slaughter through the dark corridors of the underground facility, still fighting for every step. Caldus was the next to fall. Dragged down by a tide of nurglings, the maggot-like fiends swarmed up his armour and held fast, sealing his armour joints with the shear number of their tiny disease-ridden bodies. Hal had seen his demise from a distance but could do nothing as he dealt with the daemonettes that blocked his path. A plague bearer stood over Caldus, and leveled his rusting and diseased blade at his neck. Caldus said nothing but burst a nurgling in each hand with a sickly pop as he clenched them together in frustration. The bearers jaw broke off to land on the floor, and a ghastly crackle tore itself out from the things throat. It took a moment for Hal to realize that the daemon was smiling as he pushed the blade into Caldus's neck and piercing out the back, severing the spinal column. The nurglings dispersed and swarmed down a torn grid into the depths of the facility. The plague bearer picked up its rotten jaw and shoved it into its guts, to be lost in the tingled cords of its fat intestines.

Pelenas, Hal and Logan 'felt' him die. The psychic anguish forced its way into their heads, Caldus's last emotions at the point of his death, sending them into a fury of righteousness. The three remaining grey knights pushed forward together, a silver triangle, forging its way through a sea of blue, red, green and pink. Caldus's anger fuelled their strength, his frustration honed their minds so they would not make the same mistake. And most of all, his faith in the Emperor powered their Aegis' and the daemons fell back in horror, the killing light of the three Astartes, burning through there ranks. The three knights strode into the sea, and the sea parted, revealing a sealed blast door. Using the last of Caldus' psychic residue, Pelanas forced the horizontal gap in the blast door open, and while Soran sprayed one last burst of azure bolts from his psilencer into the daemon horde, Hal strode forward, placing his hammer into the gap, high above his heads to allow the terminator armoured bulk to pass. Although it bent and screeched, the adamantium haft held firm, jamming the mechanism, and Pelanas and Soran soon followed Hal. Hal removed his hammer, and the blast doors slammed shut again.

The chamber they had entered was circular, lit with ultra-violet lights, (a rarity in the 41st millennium) which bounced and reflected off the pearl white, plas-steel walls. and in the center of it all, mounted on a pedestal, was the artifact. It was not unlike a jagged, ash-black rock, as big as the head atop Hals hammer, spikes pushing out from the center of it. But it had many glowing orange fissures and cracks ran along its uneven spikes. But although the artifact itself was impressive, it was nothing compared to the complexity of psychic energy the artifact was giving off. It was like a web, except not flat and didn't hook onto the surfaces around it. It was a maze of strings flowing and revolving around a catalyst at the center, and each strand hung from at least one of the individual spikes. The strands constantly changed colour. From green to pink, to red to blue, seemingly at random.

Hal reached out with his mind, picking a strand. Hal assumed that the web was similar to the human brain, where a strand of memory could be focused on and read. But this artifact shifted and avoided his reach. Frustrated, Hal reached further with his senses, and grabbed hold. The strand twisted and turned, but Hal held true. He managed to garner snippets of 'memories' that told him about the artifacts path. It had been taken from the depths of some nameless planet by a penal legion mining team, a score of forsaken men, the artifact had been brought to the attention of Inquisitor Valeria, ever-of a curious nature, and the artifact was brought here and the score men, for their services, were released. While this boosted the morale of the other men, and gave the team hope that their freedom was finally at hand, the mining team didn't live for a day more, as they were shunted out to the cold embrace of space on the cargo ship that was to bring them their salvation. Valeria had left nothing to chance. Typical.

However, the beautiful web, again like a spider, became a deadly trap. And Hal fell for the same trap; countless billions of billions of billions and more, flies had fallen for, since the dawn of time itself. He was caught in the web. Suddenly, the seemingly passive strands of web, just flowing lazily around the artifact, exploded outwards, and hooked around Hals psychic presence. They began reeling him in to the center, dragging his very soul towards the center, the spider, waiting. Because Hal could now see, with the artifacts defenses down, focusing only on Hal, its prey, the daemon lurking at its core.

Alerted to the distress of their brother, Pelanas and Soran added their psychic energy to Hals and tried to force the daemons grip from Hals mind. However it was a uphill battle. The deadly psychic web had its hooks deep into Hal, and wasn't letting go. Having your soul ripped out of you was a painful experience, as any psyker would know. But having a daemon consume it was worse still. Eternal torment and damnation awaited those with this cruel fate. Abandoning the psychic tug of war between the daemon and the Knights, Pelanas grabbed Hals nemesis hammer from the floor, where Hal had dropped it. Hal had felt his mind slipping, the daemon getting closer and dragging Soran with him. Pelanas brought the hammer crashing down on the artifact, the resulting explosion sending daemonic rock and psychic energy scattering across the room. The daemon released its grip on Hal and with a final death scream, shattering every light in the room and even sent a crack down Hals visor, disappeared, leaving an uneasy silence in its wake.

* * *

 _ **A** **nd there you have it, my old story. Let me know what you think and if i should continue on with Hal's trials or focus on my other story.**_

 _ **Signed by Imperial Decree**_

 _ **BluePanedGasMask**_


End file.
